Something for the Girls

The Group. Nearly every reader of Mary McCarthy's bitchy, college-bred bestseller--and even many who ostentatiously refused to read it--should find this movie irresistible. Miss McCarthy's heroines were eight little Vassar grads, class of '33, who threw away their books to learn firsthand about life, men, sexual fulfillment and social betterment in the turbulent years between commencement day and the beginning of World War II. The film omits some of the minor evidence against them and succeeds as a suds opera far superior to the ordinary household brand. Sharply written by Scenarist Sidney Buchman, it is directed with lively, Roosevelt-period flavor by Sidney Lumet and played with giddy, gossipy, delicious girlishness by a group of captivating young actresses who rediscover the '30s like Junior Leaguers unleashed at an antiques fair.

The whole production shows unerring taste. Boris Kaufman's subdued color photography evokes nostalgia the way old snapshots do, pulling the mind back to floppy hats and turbans and the horrors of early modern decor. Lumet skillfully sustains the drama's reminiscent mood without losing his amused detachment toward the well-educated, privileged creatures who, if nothing else, will remain loyal alumnae till the day they die. Virginity, infidelity, Communism, hard times, conception, contraception, Hitler and high fashion are their concerns. Balefully sizing up the groom at the group's first wedding, a bleak ritual in Greenwich Village, one member of the sisterhood groans: "My God, Harald's wearing brown suede shoes!"

More than anything, unshakable performances keep The Group going strong. As the bride Kay, who ultimately pays with her life for choosing the wrong husband, Broadway's Joanna Pettet etches a jittery, wounding image of pride slowly strangled. As Libby, the frigid literary snob, Jessica Walter unreels bits of the yarn through hearsay, as only a cat can. As Dottie, a staid Bostonian who decides to let a casual acquaintance seduce her, Joan Hackett intuitively lights up every scene she is in. And Shirley Knight, as Polly, reads gentle truth into every word and gesture. Leading the second rank, Candice Bergen, as the Lesbian "Lakey," is a stunning presence. Most important of the men in their lives are Larry Hagman and James Broderick, with Hal Holbrook contributing some solemn hilarity as a failed leftist philanderer who seems unable to assimilate the benefits of psychoanalysis.

In order to propel his close-knit cast through a long, fragmentized narrative, Director Lumet has to bob around a good deal, ticker-taping a chatty alumnae newsletter across the screen like subtitles in a foreign movie, sometimes cutting from character to character as though he were taking an opinion poll. Linking political and social history to the girls' private affairs also creates momentary strain, since the audience cannot really profit much from learning that the German army has attacked Poland just after good ole Pokey (Mary-Robin Redd) delivers her second set of twins. Although The Group's McCarthyish airs are trivial as sociology, more dazzling than deep as drama, no sorority party in years has dished out so much trenchant and exhilarating tattle.

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